


Orange blossoms

by Joeybelle



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Bondage, No explicit protection at least, Once upon a time in Essos, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Semi-Public Nudity, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Unprotected Sex, it's up to you it happens in a bubble
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 18:27:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,206
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20247328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Joeybelle/pseuds/Joeybelle
Summary: She noticed him the moment he entered the market. He was one of the few people actually browsing the stalls, looking at the produce. He didn’t seem to be interested in anything in particular, more like looking for something to pass the time. He was tall and well dressed in beautiful garments of warm, earthy tones mixed with yellows and gold that occasionally caught the light. Embroidered silk, if her eyes didn’t deceive her. The shoes were worn and dusty, like everything else in the city. She hadn't seen him before, so maybe he was one of those wealthy travelers sometimes passing the markets. She wouldn’t mind if he spent a few coins on her.





	Orange blossoms

**Author's Note:**

> This was meant to be short, but I guess this is my brain's definition of short. It's accidentally inspired by the kiss/snowdrop scene from the movie Stardust, but I realized that only after I plotted the beginning and felt it was incredibly familiar. If any Sand Snakes have been produced during the encounter is completely up to you. It takes place somewhere in Essos, at whatever point in time you feel like. 
> 
> For an optimal reading experience, my lovely beta @Llexeh would advise you to read it on a beach in the sun <3

The air was hot and stagnant. The breeze that constantly caressed these shore cities seemed to have disappeared for the time being, leaving them all to shrivel under the scorching sun. Nothing was moving. 

She was fanning herself with the colorful scarf she used to protect her head from the blazing sun. The awning above their stall provide enough shade to make it useless, so she’d taken it off, leaving her hair uncovered and wild, something she knew her Nana would thoroughly disapprove of. It made her look frivolous, she’d say, not like a proper, working woman. She’d also unfastened a few more buttons on her shirt than she normally would. Luckily, her Nana was napping in the back of the wagon, escaping the midday heat, so she was free to slump back into the large, wooden chair, lift her skirt up to her thighs and place her bare feet on the edge of the stand. 

A drop of sweat was slowly making its way down her chest, traveling the valley between her breasts before pooling on her stomach. 

There had been no patrons that morning anyway. It was much too hot, and the market was almost deserted. Although there was nothing better than a piece of fresh, juicy fruit on a hot day and she knew her beautifully stacked oranges were some of the best, none of the people walking through the market stopped by their shop. She didn’t mind. Selling citrus wasn’t the main part of their business, there were other affairs that Nana conducted in the back of the shop, but she still prided herself in the fruit she was selling. 

The day went by incredibly slow. She watched a ray of sunlight slowly travel on the pavement to eventually land on her exposed thigh. She was too lazy to put her feet down and move the heavy chair, so she just stared at the strip of light warming her skin and continued to fan herself. 

She noticed him the moment he entered the market. He was one of the few people actually browsing the stalls, looking at the produce. He didn’t seem to be interested in anything in particular, more like looking for something to pass the time. He was tall and well dressed in beautiful garments of warm, earthy tones mixed with yellows and gold that occasionally caught the light. Embroidered silk, if her eyes didn’t deceive her. The shoes were worn and dusty, like everything else in the city. She hadn't seen him before, so maybe he was one of those wealthy travelers sometimes passing the markets. She wouldn’t mind if he spent a few coins on her.

She watched him approach, and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t excited to see him up close. Not that many things had happened that day and certainly none of those made her heart beat a little faster. He had black hair and beautiful, sunkissed skin. Dark eyes watched her intently from under even darker lashes. 

He extruded elegance, from the way he moved to the way his garments were tailored to fit his frame perfectly. They weren’t ostentatious, like she’d seen so many others wear in these parts of the land, but everything he wore looked expensive. His robes opened in the front revealing a just as beautiful undershirt and a long strip of tan skin. The leather belt that kept it all together was hanging low on his hips, a shortsword fastened to it, hitting his thigh as he walked. She wondered if she unfastened his belt, what she would find underneath. 

She suddenly felt the urge to fan herself harder. 

His hand hovered over the neatly displayed fruit, barely touching the produce, but his eyes never left her. There was a hunger in them and not one that could be satiated by a couple of oranges. Eventually, he grabbed three tangerines from a pile, threw them in the air and caught them all in the same hand as he pretended to actually look at the fruit this time. This gave her the opportunity to study his profile some more. She liked the way his nose curved like he was some sort of bird of prey. She would certainly love to touch it, run the tips of her fingers along the bridge of his nose, down his cheek, caress the thin strip of facial hair that emphasized his strong jawline. 

He brought a piece of fruit to his lips, making her eyes focus on his mouth. He had really beautiful lips that she’d love to be able to taste. 

“How much for these?” he asked, showing her the remaining two tangerines he was still holding in his hand. His voice was deep and a little husky, bearing an accent she did not recognize. 

She lazily put her feet down and got up from the chair. Her skirt fell to the ground, covering her legs, but her blouse had shifted to uncover her shoulder and a little more of her chest. She placed her hands on the edge of the stall and leaned closer to the stranger. 

“Well,” she said, pretending just for the sake of pretending that she was thinking of a price, “for you, I’d say… a kiss.”

He smiled, his lips slowly curling upwards underneath his moustache, and sat on the other side of the stand, right opposite her. He seemed to take his time to consider as he was slowly eating another tangerine, but the new mischievous glint in his eye told her he wasn’t bothered by the offer. Not in the least. 

“Isn’t it a bit steep?” he asked, leaning a bit closer, a whiff of expensive perfume washing over her. 

“I promise you, my Lord,” she said, giving him one of her best smiles, one that always got her things. “You won’t find sweeter fruit in the whole market.”

“I think that might be right,” he said, inching a little closer, the intensity in his eyes making her shudder. 

“And if you do, my Lord,” she said, their noses almost touching, feeling the radiating warmth of his skin on her own, “I’ll pay you back.” 

He smiled properly this time, revealing a perfect set of teeth, before tangling his fingers into her hair and pulling her into a kiss. It was sudden and definitely welcomed. He tasted like the tangerines he’d just eaten, but also of something else, spicier, more enticing. His soft lips were really adept at capturing hers in a slow, but passionate kiss. He took his time tasting her, parting her lips to deepen the kiss, his fist in her hair keeping her in place, totally open for him to take whatever he wanted. And she surrendered willingly. 

She was breathing heavily when he finally let go of her, but so was he. She could see his chest moving under the silk garments and it took all her self control not to reach into the opening to feel his skin under her fingertips. But she had to get herself together, she couldn’t let him unravel her so easily, so she fixed her blouse and ran a hand through her hair. Her Nana should be proud, she was playing coy for once. 

She could feel herself burning, and it wasn’t the heat this time. 

She moved a little further back, letting him follow the sway of her hips with his gaze. “Thank you for your patronage,” she smiled over her shoulder, twirling a lock of hair around her finger. 

He frowned, accentuating the fine lines adorning his face, but his cheeky smile was still there. He jumped off the stand and moved around the stall with a speed and agility that astounded her. In the blink of an eye he was right beside her, his dark gaze fixed on her lips once more. 

“And what if I’d like more?” he asked, sitting in her chair and pulling her hand to follow him, with the confidence of someone who wasn’t used to being denied things.

She smiled and sat on his knee, placing a hand on his shoulder and leaning against him as she looked in his eyes. “Then you’d have to use actual money, my Lord,” she said, touching the tip of his nose with her finger. 

One arm was securely placed around her waist, holding her close, while the other hand was feeling her thigh through the flowy material of her skirt. She could feel goosebumps forming in its wake so she covered it with her own hand, making it stop before it became too much. 

“What if it wasn’t the fruit I was referring to?” He lifted his head a little, trying to steal a kiss, but she was faster and swiftly got up and out of his embrace. 

“That can’t be bought with money, my Lord.” She knew she was playing with fire, but she very much enjoyed it. It was a slow day, and she wasn’t one to just sit in place and rot away in the heat. If she was gonna get burned, it wouldn’t be from the sun, that was for sure. 

The stranger followed her, as expected. They both knew where this dance would lead to, but she happened to enjoy the journey just as much as arriving at the destination, so to speak. So she took a step back when he took one towards her until her thighs made contact with the fruit stand and there was nowhere else to go. 

He towered over her, and not because of his height, but of the raw power he radiated when he placed his hands on her hips and held her close to his chest. She brought her hands in front of her, not to defend herself, but to let them rest on the beautiful fabric of his robes. Let her fingers slide in the opening, making contact with the warm skin underneath. She could see a gold chain with a heavily ornate piece hanging from it peeking from under his shirt, but she didn’t care. Gold was expensive, but wouldn’t give her the same thrill as touching his exposed chest. 

“So if it can’t be bought,” he said, taking one of her hands and bringing it to his lips, “what can I do to get another taste?” His words vibrated against the back of her hand, his eyes never leaving her flushed face. 

He didn’t have to ask, he really didn’t. Her decision had been made the moment he approached her stall, but she liked the courtesy of him asking and not just taking. She was trapped between the fruit stand and his strong frame and she was sure she wouldn’t be able to escape his embrace unless he wanted to let her go. And he didn’t seem keen on doing that, considering the way he was running a finger over the exposed part of her collarbone, slipping it under her blouse and slowly uncovering her shoulder. Her breath hitched when his lips followed his finger. 

“For you, my lord,” she whispered, “just a kiss.”

The second kiss was nowhere as gentle as the one before. It seemed that once he’d gotten a taste he just couldn’t get enough of her, and it showed. His hands were all over her body while she clung on his shoulders for dear life. 

His smell was intoxicating. It wasn’t just the perfume—a distinctive note of orange blossoms and some deeper ones of something woody—but also the smell of his skin so close to her. He smelled like a hot, summer afternoon spent under the flowering orange trees. It reminded her of home. 

His lips on her jawline, however, kept her firmly grounded in the moment. She gasped when he nipped at the sensitive skin on her neck, and then she gasped again when his hand cupped her breast, squeezing it gently. Her skin burned under his touch, and he hadn’t even taken her clothes off yet. 

But she wanted him. She wanted him then and there. She wanted him to undo her, to melt her with his fiery heat and then put her back together. 

A crashing sound came from inside the tent and they both jumped. He protectively put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her close to his chest and she felt a thrill of excitement knowing that whatever happened, he’d be willing to protect her. 

But she knew who was at fault for the ruckus. She angrily whisper-shouted a name a couple of times, until the curly head of a much younger girl poked through the door. 

“What are you doing?” she questioned? “Did you wake her up?”

“No. I just knocked over a pot. She shouldn’t be able to hear it from inside the wagon,” the girl explained, her cheeks reddening in embarrassment. “I can still hear her snoring.”

“Well, she better not wake up,” she said, putting on a pair of sandals. “And get in front, I’ll need you to take over while I’m away.”

“What?! Where are you going?”

“That doesn’t concern you.”

“And who’s he?” she asked, finally noticing the stranger who was smiling amused by the whole situation. 

“That doesn’t concern you either.” The small girl shot him a distrustful look, but the smile on his face only widened. He was even more beautiful when he smiled, his whole face opening in an expression of genuine fondness. It made her smile too. “Stop stalling,” she rushed the little girl, who was still giving him the stink-eye. “Come here already!” 

“No, I don’t wanna,” she protested, crossing her arms and putting on a pout. “This is your job, not mine.”

“Oh really? Shall I remind you who does your ‘job’ when you sleep in? Who did your chores this morning so you wouldn’t get in trouble?” she said, hands propped on her hips, scolding frown, the whole package. The stranger chuckled and picked another tangerine off the stall. 

“You did,” she whined, stepping out with the enthusiasm of a horse sent to slaughter. “But you can’t leave, what if Nana wakes up and doesn’t find you here? Then we’ll both get in trouble.”

“You better make something up.” She tied the colourful scarf around her head, tucking some of the hair in and sent an inviting look to the stranger, who didn’t need more than that to get the hint and follow her. “Tell her I’ve gone to check on the horses.”

The little girl mumbled something else and plopped down in the chair, but she ignored her and took the stranger’s hand, leading him out of the market through one of the side alleys. 

“Sorry about my baby sister. She’s at the age where she refuses to do what she’s told anymore.” 

“Feisty one, isn’t she?” he said, stepping in front of her and taking both her hands in his. His face still had some of that gentleness, but his eyes had regained the playful glint they had before. “But I think you’re even feistier.”

She laughed and ran a finger on his chest, right where his skin met the fabric of his shirt. She felt him suck in a breath and took a step closer. “I can be, if my Lord wants it.” 

He smiled, looking pleased with her answer. His fingers cupped her chin, tilting her head to look up at him. “Well, aren’t you a beautiful one,” he said to himself, but his words were like sweet molasses. She snaked her hands under his coat, splaying them on the hot skin underneath. She wished she could just rip all his clothes off and have him take her right then and there, but he didn’t seem to be in any rush. Now that he knew he’d obtained what he wanted, he was going to savour it. 

And savour he did. He slowly pushed her back, until her back touched the cold stone of the building behind her, trapping her once again. The passageway was offering a little discretion—although she doubted that mattered to him much—and some much needed shade. He guided her lips back to his, letting her take control this time, meeting her needy kiss, but not pushing forward. She let her hands roam over his taut chest, enjoying the feeling of finally getting to discover what was hidden under his robes. 

Her hands dropped to his belt, taking her time unfastening the clasp. If he wanted things to go slow, she’d do them slow; if he wanted her to be feisty, he just needed to ask. Her lips placed teasingly soft kisses along his jawline, down the side of his neck, tasting the saltiness of his tanned skin. His robes opened with a swishing sound once the belt was no longer holding them in place. 

“Your sword’s really heavy, my Lord,” she said, surprised by it, before letting it fall to the ground with a clank. 

He laughed, a low and guttural sound, and pulled her closer to his chest, enveloping her in his frame. He was intoxicating, not just his smell. The way he ran his thumb over her lips before kissing them, his hands seeking her breasts through the flimsy material of her shirt; the way his fingers almost glided over the buttons, undoing them one after the other. 

Her own hands explored the nakedness of his chest, the tips of her fingers tracing the ridges left by his toned muscles until they were met with the fabric of his trousers. She didn’t waste any more time and went straight to undoing them, eliciting a sigh of relief from the man currently kissing down her neck. She laughed in response, taking him in her hand and giving him a tentative squeeze, feeling him tense for a moment under her touch, before bucking his hips to get her to move. 

She didn’t. Instead, she wiggled out of his embrace and slowly sunk to her knees, keeping her eyes on his face the whole time. He looked pleased. Even more so when she ran her tongue along his shaft, the smirk on his face getting a little broader, his eyes still burning into her being. It crossed her mind to tease him a little, see how long it would take until he’d lose patience, flip her over and fuck her against the wall, but he placed a hand onto her head and stroked her forehead with his thumb. 

“You’re good girl, aren’t you?” he whispered in his deliciously foreign accent, as if he somehow knew what she was thinking. 

“Yes, my Lord,” she said, sucking in a breath before taking him into her mouth, letting her tongue drag along the soft skin and her hands cover any length she couldn't fit in her mouth.

Of course she was going to be a good girl. For him. Not too good, though. No, that would be boring, but she’d be good enough for him to take her scarf off, stroke her head in a sign of fondness, before grabbing a handful of her hair. She didn’t let him set the pace though, and he didn’t try to shove himself down her throat, after the first try which she stopped with a frown; but he still used the hand in her hair to nudge her to move a little faster when he felt like she was slacking or she was teasing him a bit too much. 

She was enjoying herself. His long coat was acting as a curtain between her and the rest of the world, where it was just her and the handsome stranger who was currently almost on the verge of spilling on her lips. No matter who he was and how rich and powerful, he was currently at her mercy and she liked that sense of power. She lifted her eyes and smiled. 

"Hey! You can't do that here!" came a voice from down the narrow alley, making both of them jump. "That's not permitted!"

A guard, of course. Neither of them had taken this into consideration, but by the nonchalant and almost lazy way the stranger fixed his trousers and turned around to look at the guard, it seemed like he didn't care. 

"But why is that, my friend?" He asked, picking his belt up from the ground, but not making any effort to fasten his robes back up. "Why stop people from enjoying themselves?"

She jumped back to her feet and hastily buttoned up her shirt, staying just one step behind her newfound lover, hiding behind his frame. The guard was taken aback by his smile and the threatening way he was approaching him, but she knew once the initial shock would pass, it could get ugly.

"Because it's not permitted," the guard blabbered, taking a step back. 

"Says who?" The smile was still there, but it was almost menacing. By the way his hand was now on the handle of his beautifully ornate sword, she doubted he’d just back down once the fight started. 

"Let's go," she whispered, placing a hand on his back and making him look at her over his shoulder. "It's not worth it, let's run."

"But…" he replied, gesturing towards the guard. 

"I'll have to go back soon," she said, hoping that this would make him reconsider. "I know we can outrun him, and that's faster."

He seemed to consider his choices for half a second, before swiftly turning around and taking her hand. "Let's run then," he said, completely disregarding the guard. 

They took off with the guard yelling after them, but she knew the city and how to hide better than most people, so they quickly lost him. When they stopped, they were up in the rich parts of the city. She took a few moments to catch her breath. It wasn’t so much the effort as it was the adrenaline of the chase, combined with her still very much present arousal. 

"Hmm… not great where we've ended up," she said, looking around the unfamiliar streets. Everything looked orderly and well cared for, with flowering trees peaking above the tall, stone fences, with beautiful, ornate gates. It radiated a sense of luxury, from the ochre coloured stone of the pavement, to the dark roofs of the buildings in the back. "Let's find another place."

"Why? I like it here." He was already smelling some flowers that were hanging low over a fence. Yeah, she was sure he's like it there, it was probably where he'd be spending most of his time anyway. He looked like he belonged, even with his robes still undone, swords still in hand, the golden chain dangling freely against his bare chest. 

She looked around a bit wary. "Too many guards. People here like their peace and quiet.” And don’t like people like me, she thought, but didn’t voice it. “A little less interruption would be nice, don’t you think.”

She took his hand and tried guiding him to a more secluded place, but he stopped dead in his tracks. 

“You don’t think I can handle a few of these guards?” he asked, looking a little offended. 

“Of course I do!” she assured him, and it wasn’t just to make him feel better. There was something in the way he moved that made her honestly believe he could handle himself well in a duel. “But what would be the point, my Lord?” He shrugged and pulled her closer, so she was once again in his embrace. “You’re one of those people that just like the thrill of it?”

“Is it wrong?” 

She didn’t know how to reply, so she shrugged. He kissed her briefly then let go and started walking down the street, like he was looking for something. She followed him, a bit confused, missing his warm embrace. She really resented that guard for interrupting them, but at the same time, she should have expected it. His taste still lingered on her lips and his smell in her nostrils, and her skin really yearned for his touch. Maybe they could find a room somewhere, if he could afford it. 

“What’s the point of life if you don’t enjoy the thrill of living?” he continued, jumping to look over a stone fence, then moving towards the next house. He checked the gate, but it was locked, so he moved on.

“I’m not that adventurous.”

He seemed to have found what he was looking for, because after looking over the fence for a few moments, he climbed it. “Really?” he asked, before disappearing into someone’s garden. Her breath hitched, especially when the gate opened a few moments later. “I wouldn’t have guessed that,” he said, leaning in the gateway. “After all, you ran away with me,” he added, taking her hand and bringing it to his lips. 

“What are you doing?” she asked, ignoring his statement, still not believing that he would just jump into someone’s garden to unlock the gate. 

“You… wanted privacy?” he explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. He took a step back, inviting her in. 

“They’ll kill us,” she whispered, but followed him anyway. 

He shook his head and took her hand guiding her through the garden. “They don’t have to know.”

The garden was as close to her image of paradise as something on earth could ever be. Old, majestic trees were offering some much needed shade, while flowering shrubs filled the air with their scent. There was a water fountain in the middle, sprinkling crystal clear streams in the air. It felt like the unforgiving sun was just a bad memory in there. 

He kissed her in the shade, slowly, deeply, completely unconcerned that they were currently committing a crime. Or maybe that just added to the thrill. It did for her, at least. She’d been spirited away to this mysterious world by an enchanting stranger and she had yet to decide if she wanted to go back home. 

He pulled her to the side towards an alcove. There were flowering vines climbing on the stone wall, and if it weren’t for the colourful, stained glass window in the middle of the alcove, she would have certainly overlooked it. Looked like a great place to hide from accidentally being spotted. 

“My lady,” he said with a slight bow, taking her hand and inviting her in the small space.

“I’m no lady,” she said, following him through the veil of hanging vines that partly obscured the entrance.

“I don’t care.” 

She smiled. She had no doubt that it didn’t matter to him, otherwise he wouldn’t have picked her from behind a market stall. He knew full well what she was, or rather, wasn’t, and didn’t seem to care. If he did, she was sure he would have introduced himself. People who cared about titles always tried to make them known. But like this, he could very well be a prince or a beggar wearing some very fancy clothes. 

But there was no need for formal introductions when his lips were already pretty well acquainted with that sweet spot on her neck that made her shiver and moan. However, she wanted more than just his lips on her skin, slowly moving down her neck towards her chest. She wanted all of him, the whole experience. She wanted him to take her, mercilessly possess her, to hold her in his arms while she cried in ecstasy. 

Her hands hastily went down to his trousers, trying to let him out as fast as possible, but he stopped her. 

“In a rush, are we?” he said, taking her hands and placing them on his shoulders. “I think it’s my turn now,” he whispered in her ear, before grabbing her thighs and lifting her on the ledge under the stained glass window. She parted her legs to allow him to step closer to her, her skirt still an annoying barrier between their bodies. She wished he’d just rip it off in one quick motion, but instead he lifted it slowly, his fingers caressing the sides of her legs, lifting her knees to place them around his waist. His hands massaged the skin on her thighs, getting dangerously close to where she wanted them, but never quite touching her. 

He was slow and deliberate. She could feel his erection through the strained material of his trousers, but he didn’t pay any attention to it. He was focused on unbuttoning her shirt, slowly revealing her breasts, a look of hunger in his eyes. But she was hungry too, and not entirely willing to play by his rules, so she let her hands slip from his shoulders and go much, much lower. 

He caught her wrists and shook his head. “What did I tell you?” he asked, looking her in the eye.

“I don’t remember,” she said with a cheeky smile that was meant to rile him up a bit. 

He frowned as he brought her hands above her head, but he still had a wicked smile on his face as he pressed an almost brutal kiss to her lips. “I don’t like repeating myself,” he growled in her ear, taking out her scarf from one of his pockets. She was surprised to see it—she was sure he’d lost it somewhere on the way—and even more surprised to see him tie it around her wrists and secure it somewhere above her head so she couldn’t bring her hands down. 

He took a few steps back, admiring his work. By the very pleased smirk on his face, she knew he liked what he saw: she was perched rather precariously on the stone ledge, her back against the coloured glass, her feet dangling above the ground, shirt completely unbuttoned, hands tied above her head; her hair was wild and her cheeks had reddened under his scrutinizing gaze. Although she wasn’t a prude, it was the first time she’d been left in such a vulnerable position by anyone. She liked it. 

“If you leave me here like this,” she said, pretending to sound menacing, “I will find you, and make you pay.” It was an empty threat, because she was sure that if she wiggled her hands a little she could easily set herself free, but she just wanted to let him know that he had a job to finish. 

“Hmmm…” He scratched his chin, making her eyes focus on that chiseled jawline once again. “I’ll think about it.”

He took a few more seconds to look at her from a distance, making her feel like he was fucking her with just his gaze. She could feel something stirring up inside her, heat pooling between her legs making her want to rub her thighs together for some sort of pressure. He just watched, appraisingly. 

Eventually, he took a flower from one of the vines and tucked it behind her ear. “You’re beautiful,” he whispered, lifting her chin to look at her before kissing her hungrily, his hands cupping her breasts. His fingers brushed over her nipples, the ghost of a touch almost, but enough to make them perk up. She arched her back, trying to elicit more than a fleeting touch from him. 

“Greedy,” he said, kissing down her neck, making her belly squirm in anticipation. He nipped and sucked at the skin on her chest, making sure he'd leave at least one mark. She’d have to do her best to hide it in the days to come. 

But her mind emptied of all coherent thought when his mouth closed over her nipple. Hot and wet and exhilarating, setting her nerve endings ablaze. She wanted to run her fingers through his hair, guide his mouth where she wanted it, force him to taste her, and please her, but the scarf around her wrists didn’t let her bring her hands down. He lifted his eyes to look at her, sensing her shift and smiled. She was exactly where he wanted her to be, completely in his power. 

He hiked up her skirt, slowly sliding his hands over her thighs. She eagerly spread her legs to allow him better access, but he was taking his time, mapping her skin with his hands, just never close enough to where it ached. She whimpered when his lips left her breast. He took a few seconds to look at her, before finally letting his fingers slide over her slit. 

She gasped, and once again wished her hands were free to grab him and pull him closer, to urge him to hurry, to give her what she wanted. But she realized that once it was over, she’d have to go back and this would end. 

“Already dripping wet for me,” he breathed, pushing past her folds, letting his fingers explore the wetness between her legs.

He was deliberately slow. Keeping her pinned between his body and the window, drawing out small whimpers from her parted lips. She could see the coloured light dancing on his face, the smell of his perfume enveloping her like an embrace. The heat between them melted any remnants of logical thought from her mind. The only thing that remained was the feeling of his fingers moving inside of her, drawing out raspy breaths from her parted lips. 

She didn’t fully register what he was doing when he tucked the hem of her skirt under the waistband until he kneeled in front of her. He nipped the inside of her thigh, hard enough to leave a mark but not to cause any real pain, especially not in the aroused state she was in. His lips placing kiss after kiss on the sore spot that were both enticing and teasing at the same time.

But it wasn’t the skin on her thigh he was most interested in. She had to bite her lip hard to keep herself from moaning when his tongue parted her folds, tasting her greedily. Her eyes fluttered shut, her head leaning back on the glass, hands gripping tightly the fabric of the scarf keeping them together.

He was really good at what he was doing. He didn’t hesitate, he didn’t fumble. He seemed to already know her intimately, or at least, read her like an open book, because with every flick of his tongue or curl of his fingers he made her tremble with arousal. She felt like putty in his hands, ready for him to make whatever he wanted of her. 

Through the haze in her mind, she could hear people talking on the other side of the window. The words were muffled and her mind refused to make sense of the ones she could hear clearly, but the people sounded pretty cheery. She wondered if they could see her, the silhouette of her back leaning against the window while a charming stranger was kneeling between her legs, setting her nerves on fire. She wondered how outraged they’d be if they realized what was going on in their garden. The thought made her smile. 

It didn’t matter if they did, anyway. She wasn’t willing to stop and move somewhere else and the sense of danger only added to the thrill. What would they think if they saw her like this, tied up, clothes undone, having to bite her lip not to cry too loud. She was shameless. 

It didn’t take long for him to bring her to the edge, but before she could reach the much needed release, he stopped. She cursed under her breath as he got up, smirking. 

“You wouldn’t want to finish without me,” he whispered in her ear, as he untied her hands.

She grabbed his shoulders and pulled him closer, crushing her lips to his. “I just might, if you don’t hurry,” she said, kissing the growing grin on his face, opening his shirt more to be able to slide her hands over his skin. His trousers were undone—she hadn’t noticed when—and he was already hard and ready. 

He pulled her closer to the edge of the stone ledge and in one strong thrust of his hips he plunged himself into her, making her bite the fabric covering his shoulder in an attempt to muffle her whimper. 

“That fast enough for you, my Lady?” he chuckled in her ear, giving her a few moments to adjust. 

“Oh, shut up and fuck me,” she snarled, scraping the back of his neck with her nails, but that only made him laugh harder. 

However, he did do what he was told. He did fuck her. In long, hard strokes that would have driven her through the glass if she hadn’t been holding onto his broad shoulders for dear life. He held her ass in his hands, keeping her in place for him to ram almost furiously into her, as if this was the first and the last time he’d be having sex. 

She was moaning loudly now, completely indifferent to the people on the other side of the window—if they were going to hear her, she could only hope they liked the show. He didn’t mind, more than that, he seemed to really enjoy it every time he managed to make her a little more vocal, chuckling slightly in her ear and thrusting harder. 

She had her face in the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent every time she inhaled, her lips brushing against his hot skin. She could taste his sweat on her lips. His low grunts made his chest vibrate against her breasts and she pressed herself flush against his shoulders, wanting to feel as much of him as humanly possible. 

The almost frenzied pace he was setting quickly brought her to release. She trembled, arching her back and letting out a long sigh as her orgasm took over, numbing her mind and setting her ablaze. 

He lasted a little longer, but in the end he succumbed to his own climax collapsing into her arms with a hoarse, almost wild growl. She could feel his raspy breaths in her hair as he pulled her closer to his chest. 

They stayed like that for a while, entangled in a silent embrace, just holding each other as close as possible. It was a comforting feeling holding someone and not bolting out of there the moment you’re done. It felt a bit surreal. She could still hear the people going about their lives on the other side of the glass, but she felt like she was in a completely different world from them. Here she was calm and satisfied and oddly at peace.

Eventually, she climbed off the ledge, letting her skirt fall to the ground, watching him refasten his garments. 

“I’ll keep this,” he said, placing her scarf around his neck and tucking it under the shirt, so only a small part of it was visible above his collar. “You can have this in exchange, if you’d like,” he added, producing from his pocket a delicate fan, made from some sort of carved wood. “Since I’ve stolen your scarf, you might have more use of it that I do.”

“Thank you,” she said, taking it from his hand, leaning in for a languorous kiss. 

He helped button up her shirt, his forehead pressed against hers, his fingers trailing the shape of her breast giving her the impression that he hadn’t had enough. But the voices were getting louder and more defined. She jumped a little, her breath catching in her throat, when she heard a gate open and close nearby. 

“Let’s get out of here,” he said when the noise settled a bit, holding her close to his chest as he listened intently. 

She nodded and let him lead the way. She was a bit sad having to leave the idyllic garden, but she knew that sooner or later she’d have to go back. His hand was warm, fingers tangled with her own and she allowed herself to enjoy his presence a little longer. 

The streets were still pretty much deserted, the heat just as awful as before, but the city seemed varnished in a deeper shade of gold. The sun had gone down considerably, and she feared she’d been missing for too long for it to go unnoticed. But she still stopped on the side of the road to admire the brilliantly blue sea underneath them and the ships floating in the distance. 

“Have you ever been at sea?” he asked, snaking a hand around her waist, pulling her into his frame. He was even more beautiful now, the golden light accenting his features. He looked almost regal.

“No,” she answered, letting her head rest on his shoulder. “I’ve been on a fishing boat once, but I’ve never left the port.”

“Would you want to?”

She giggled. “Where will you take me?”

He smiled and kissed her temple. “Where would you like to go?”

“Braavos. To see the Titan.”

“It is an impressive view,” he said, but he sounded like quite the opposite. “It gets boring fast,” he replied to her amused giggle, and dipped his head to kiss her neck. 

“Hey! You there!” came a somewhat familiar voice from behind them. 

It was the guard from before, now red with anger, breathing heavily, like he’d been running. Had he been looking for them? For all that time? She’d already forgotten he existed, but by the way he pulled out his sword and menacingly propped himself on his bowed legs, he didn’t seem to have done the same. 

“Can I deal with him now?” said her temporary lover with a very exasperated look on his face, his accent becoming a little more pronounced. He was cute.

“Of course,” she replied, although she knew that he’d already made a decision. His hand was already on the hilt of his sword, and his eyes had a mischievous glint. “Who am I to stop you?” she added, running her fingers through his hair. Making him look back at her. 

This was probably going to be the last time she’d see him, so she made sure to take a long, good look, have his features embedded in her memory for years to come. She smiled. Her heart was a little heavy knowing that she’d have to go, but so happy that she’d got to meet him. 

He kissed her deeply, passionately, and she desperately replied, clinging onto him like her life depended on it. For a brief moment time stood still, and it was just the both of them once again, two lovers trapped in a frozen moment in time, entangled in each other.

But then the real world claimed them once again, and she had to go. 

She looked back one more time, admiring his elegant fighting stance, before running down the stairs. She could hear their boots hitting the pavement, the clanking of swords and an occasional curse word, but she didn’t stop. She kept running until she was back in the familiar market that had been her home for the past few weeks. She stopped for a moment to fix her clothing and her hair before appearing in front of everyone, but she knew she was flushed and sweaty and the smile on her face was probably a little too wide for it to go unquestioned. 

“Where have you been?” her Nana asked the moment she stepped into view, one of her greying eyebrows arched to heavens. 

“To check on the horses,” she said with the confidence of someone who had been lying to her Nana since she’d learned to form coherent words. 

“Don’t believe you. You don’t smell like horses,” she croaked. 

“Well thank you, I try.” 

“Listen here,” she said grabbing her arm, and making her turn to look her in the eye. “Don’t you dare try to be clever with me. When I found you and took you in you didn’t even know how to blow your snotty nose on your own. I bathed you, I fed you, I clothed you—”

“ —I put a roof over your head,” she mocked the older woman as she continued saying the same speech she and her sisters had heard ever since they could remember. It was always the same, how she’d done so much for them and how ungrateful they were. But she knew her Nana would tire easily and forget about the whole thing in the end, especially if she’d make her favourite tea, with an extra sugar cube. So she pretended to listen, and occasionally bowed her head in pretended shame. 

The old woman’s yammering was interrupted by a ruckus coming from one of the gates. They both leaned over the stacked fruit to get a better look, just in time to see the beautiful stranger dressed in golden robes run through the market, sword out and a very satisfied grin plastered over his face. 

“Oh no, not him,” the old lady groaned, her face turning from anger to annoyance. 

“Do you know him?” she asked, her heart beating a little faster as a group of visibly out of breath guards followed the stranger. “Who’s he?”

“The devil incarnate, that’s who he is,” she grumbled, walking back and busying herself with some pots in a corner. “The Red Viper they call him, and rightly so. That damned Dornish prince,” she said to herself, then frowned at the growing smile on the girl’s face. 

“Dornish prince, you say?”

“Is that the only thing you heard? He’s bad news, you stay away from him!”

“Is he?” she asked, but her eyes were scanning the area, trying to get another glimpse of him. Her fingers brushed over her lips, his fiery kissed still fresh in her memory. 

“Stay away from him, child!” she repeated her warning, pointing a finger at her nose. “If you see him walking down the street you run like the hordes are following you.”

She smiled and collapsed in her chair, once she was sure he’d left the market. “Of course. Wouldn’t want to get involved with someone like him. Dornish prince…”

“You’ll get burned one day, ” the old lady snorted, “and then you’ll regret this smart ass attitude of yours.” She turned on her heels and entered the tent behind the stall, still mumbling something about how she’d sacrificed everything for the girls and this was how they treated her. She wondered what the Dornish prince had done to her to hate him that strongly. Probably owed her money, there were few things she loved more. 

“Mhm, I’ll stay away from him,” came a mocking voice from the tent, before her youngest sister stepped out. “What if I tell her where you’ve been this afternoon?” she said with a shit eating grin on her young face. 

“I’ll throw you in the sea and leave you to the fish.” The young girl shuddered as she was terribly afraid of deep waters. While she wasn’t serious with her threat, younger siblings sometimes had to be reminded who was older and in charge. But she was sure that no matter how much they bickered, her younger sister would never tell.

“He left these on the stall before you left,” she said, taking three gold coins from the pocket of her skirt. “For the fruit I assume. I didn’t tell Nana, she would have asked questions.”

She frowned at the money. Their whole stall was worth less than that, let alone three tangerines. She knew she had to give the money back, but there was no way she could run after him and catch him now, so if their Nana didn’t know… well…

“Keep one,” she said, taking the other two from the girl’s open palm. “Take good care of it, this is probably the most money we’ll ever have.”

“Really?” The young girl hopped from one foot to the other in excitement, shoving it deep in her pocket before anyone could take it away, and running inside. Their Nana, even though she loved them a lot, never allowed them to have any money. She was a really stingy woman, but she assumed that part of it was also due to the fear that if they’d have their own money, they’d leave. It was an honest concern, for she’d always dreamed of leaving the nest. 

Once the atmosphere went back to normal, with her Nana in the back preparing something to eat and mumbling at her youngest, she took out the fan and studied it. It was sandalwood she realized, and now she knew where the woody scent on his skin came from. Tiny golden suns matching the ones on his robes were encrusted all over it. Dorne. She’d heard of it, but it was so far away it was covered in mystery. That would explain his foreign accent and the foreign looking clothes. She wondered what Dorne was like. She wondered if he’d take her there. 

She propped her feet on the stall once again, hiking up her skirt, smiling when she noticed the red mark on her inner thigh. She started fanning herself, the perfumed air moving an unruly strand of hair from her forehead. It smelled like sandalwood and Dornish princes. And orange blossoms. And kisses under the unforgiving summer sun. 

She kept fanning herself.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed it, I'm just completely in love with Oberyn Martell if you haven't noticed. All feedback is welcome, short comments, long comments, emotes, keyboard smashing, anything. Just please be kind <3
> 
> If you wanna talk you can find me on [tumblr@joeybelle](https://joeybelle.tumblr.com/) or on [Twitter@njoeythesilence](https://twitter.com/njoeythesilence)


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